I scoffed in disbelief, “Did you just hear yourself? Do you understand what you just asked me to do?”
Viola’s eyes flashed at me darkly as she mashed her finished cigarette into the floor.
“Of course I understand, you think I made that choice lightly?” she spat, glaring at me.
“Didn’t take you long,” I retorted, “How could you even suggest that?”
“What’s the alternative?” she demanded, lighting another cigarette. “Bring her along with us and let her infect us too?”
I snatched the lit smoke from her lips and tossed it aside, “You trying to give yourself cancer by the end of the day?”
She angrily stared me down, immediately pulling a fresh one from the pack and pointedly lighting it.
“I’m trying to cope,” she informed me, bitterly, jabbing the cigarette at me.
“How is asking me to kill your three year old coping, Vi?” I snarled, unable to look at her anymore. I threaded my fingers into my blonde hair, glancing over to the car where Hallie was peeking out of the window at us. Her fearful expression softened me, and I lowered my voice, “There must be something we can do.”
“Like what?” Viola asked, numbly. “There’s no cure for this and I can’t let her hurt someone else.”
“Maybe she won’t-”
“She will,” Viola interrupted flatly, shaking her head. “Marina, please... I don’t want her to be one of them. I can’t see her like that.”
I let my hands fall to my sides and knelt down beside my grieving sister. The conflict we faced was impossible. There was no easy answer.
Viola hung her head, letting the smoke drift out of her mouth lazily.
“I’m sorry,” she eventually murmured, rolling her cigarette between her thumb and fingers, watching the ember slowly blacken the paper. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“I… I think you were right,” I spoke slowly, each word cutting me like a knife. Viola jerked her head up, looking at me through her tears.
“What?” she uttered, choking on the smoke in her throat.
I looked towards the setting sun, trying to not hear my own words, “We have to do something.”
Viola closed her eyes as her mouth twisted downwards. I knew she was having the same internal struggle as I was, worse in fact. To have to make such a decision about your child’s fate must have been torturous.
“I can’t,” she whispered, helplessly. I reached over to her, placing my hands on hers for a moment.
“I know,” I whispered in return, standing back up. “I know. So… I will.”
Viola opened her eyes, now red-rimmed, and gave me a pleading look as she grabbed my arm.
“Marina... Just... Make it gentle,” she begged, her voice quivering. My face contorted with painful grief as I nodded and let out a sob.

I entered the building alone. The air was thick, heavy with the knowledge of what I was about to do. Every step I took was painfully slow, like I was wading through deep mud. I paused in the doorway to the exhibition, taking in Esther’s tiny form at the far end of the room. She was laying on her side facing the wall, just as we’d left her, but I could tell even from a distance that her breathing with laboured. I cautiously tiptoed towards her, trying to push the impending task out of my mind. As I got closer, I could see her whole body was damp with sweat, making her shudder. I knelt nearby, trying to process what I was about to do. My head felt fuzzy, like it was wrapped tightly in a blanket of panic that was beginning to distort my senses. Esther sensed my presence and rolled over to face me. Her dark skin was ashen and the whites of her eyes were beginning to mist with redness. She looked around for a moment before focusing on me.
“Esther?” my voice poured out into the silence that was broken only by her ragged breath. She snapped up to a sitting position quickly, as though my voice had jarred her into life. She wasted no time in lunging at me, taking me completely by surprise. I hadn’t counted on her being like this already. She tipped me off balance, bringing us both crashing to the floor. My breath hitched in through my teeth as she landed on my wounded arm. Frantically, I pushed her off of me and staggered away, trying to brush off my dazedness. My survival instincts kicked in, and I was ready when she next flew at me. I managed to knock her to the floor and pin her down as I frantically looked around for anything that could help me. My fingers connected with the sleeping bag and pulled it into my arms. Taking a deep breath, I quickly wrapped it around her tiny face and pulled it taught. She writhed underneath me as I whispered a thousand apologies over and over. Each thrash of her arms or legs tore a piece of my heart away. My grip tightened as my breathing transitioned from panicked gasping to jagged sobs. I was no longer riding on survival, I was now having to make a conscious effort to push through this. I squeezed my eyes closed so tight that I was seeing stars flashing across the blackness.
It’s not her. It’s not her. It’s not her.
Images flooded into my mind. Esther’s first birthday, her first steps, first smile, first word. Watching her come into the world and being passed into Viola’s outstretched arms.
Her legs jerked against me.
Her beautiful dark curls, so much like her father’s. Her tiny fists, clenched so tightly.
Her writhing convulsions slowed.
Her warm little body, placed against Viola’s chest as she parted her lips and she took her first breath.
She stilled as she took her last breath.
Her little wail breaking out into the world, a beautiful sound that we’d never heard before.
A wail fell from my own lips, an unearthly sound that I’d never made before. A sound of true anguish, grief and pain.
Her little body was motionless in my arms, but still I held tightly, frozen into place. Another deep breath entered my lungs and let itself out in another long howl. I barely registered that the noise was coming from me - I could focus on nothing in that moment except for the fact that my life continued to exist, while hers did not.

I stayed like that for a long while, not wanting to move, not wanting to break the moment. If I never moved again, I would never have to face what I’d done. I’d never have to acknowledge that the limp body in my arms was my own doing. Deep down, I knew couldn’t stay here forever though. As much as I wanted everything to stop, the seconds still ticked by, taunting me as they passed. Slowly, tenderly, I unwrapped the fabric from around Esther’s head. Her lifeless body hung awkwardly against me, the weight of my doing crushing my lungs. I laid her down onto the floor delicately, as though she were a porcelain doll that might break. She looked as though she could have simply been sleeping if it weren’t for the lack of her chest rising and falling. I wanted to hold her for longer, to sweep my fingers through her ringlets and apologise over and over, but I couldn’t bring myself to touch her again; my hands had already done enough damage. Instead I stood myself up, and took wobbly steps back towards the door, my head swimming as I tried to block everything out.

“You guys have power?” I squeaked in excitement, taking another swig of the cold lager. Hallie was wide eyed behind me, waiting on his answer.
Brian laughed at our enthusiasm, “Yep, we have power. We’ve got a generator out back. That’s what we bring the extra gas home for. It’s always running, gotta keep the beer cool,” he finished with a wink.
“No way, that’s amazing!” I gushed, all my guilt and worry temporarily abandoning me. “It must be so wonderful having power.”
“Yep, it’s pretty comfortable here,” he grinned. “Maybe you’ll even stay a while?”
I put the beer to my lips in lieu of answering and tipped it back. I had to admit, the prospect was certainly tempting. This place was safe, had power and there was a crew keeping it stocked and running. For now, at least, it would be somewhere we could relax. Hallie could have a taste of normality again. So, I took a deep breath.
“Do you have room for us?” I asked, coolly.
He raised an eyebrow with a smirk, “Did you not see the size of this place? Yes, I’m pretty sure we’ve got room for you.”
I looked to my niece, whose eyes were pleading with me to accept the invitation. I nodded slowly, “Okay, we’ll stay for a bit.”
Brian smiled knowingly and excused himself, leaving us standing alone.
“Thank you, Auntie Maz,” Hallie smiled, her eyes twinkling.
“Don’t mention it. You deserve better than the life we’ve been living… the life I’ve made you live,” I replied, casting her an apologetic glance. She nodded her acknowledgement and then turned back to the decorated wall. I swallowed another mouthful of lager, my elation quickly turning sour as my thoughts returned to Viola and Esther.

“Brian said you’re staying for a bit?”
My eyes travelled to the source of the voice. Shadows stood in the doorway, leaning against the wood. He had an uncharacteristically warm expression on his face, seemingly pleased that we were allowing them to host us. Or perhaps it wasn’t uncharacteristic, maybe I’d misjudged him.
“Yeah, just for a little while. If that’s ok with you, of course?” I probed, not wanting to intrude. They had quite a cosy setup here and I didn’t want to get in the way.
“Of course, stay as long as you like,” he smiled. His eyes drifted to the can in my hand, eliciting a smirk from him. “You already look pretty settled.”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve had a beer – and a cold one at that. I couldn’t resist,” I admitted, sheepishly. It wasn’t a lie. As much as I’d desperately wanted to lean on alcohol to get away from my thoughts, I’d managed to hold it together and resist. I hadn’t touched a drop since we’d left home.
“We wouldn’t go without it. Or those,” he nodded his head towards the towering pile of cigarette packets. “Still gotta enjoy life, right?”
“Right,” I smiled, politely. I’d been doing anything but enjoying life. I wasn’t sure I knew how to anymore. Perhaps I could take a leaf out of Jimmy’s book, he seemed genuinely delighted with whatever hand he was dealt; but then he probably hadn’t killed any children, I thought bleakly. I could probably still benefit from studying his cheery attitude anyway. Brian had labelled me as 'depressing', after all.
“Well, I’m happy you guys are staying for a bit. You can share the load of caring for the crazy one,” he snickered, referring to my new guru who had just stepped into the room.
“Yeah, I’m not so sure about that,” I quipped back, taking a sip of lager.
“Rude,” Jimmy retorted playfully, narrowing his eyes at the two of us. He plucked a frosty beer from the fridge and waved a hand at me, “I hear you’re descending upon us?”
“We are,” I replied cautiously as he approached me.
“Now, that calls for a party,” he grinned, tapping his can against mine. “Cheers.”

Notes

Ugh, I'm sorry. I'm a child murderer. I've stooped so low. I'm on a slippery slope since I killed off Jimmy in OB, I think I need an intervention. Help.